


A Very Larry Wedding

by cheekiestcheeky



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, just pure sugary dumb fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-29
Updated: 2014-01-29
Packaged: 2018-01-10 12:19:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1159667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheekiestcheeky/pseuds/cheekiestcheeky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wedding bells are ringing as two of the members of One Direction finally tie the knot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Very Larry Wedding

**Author's Note:**

> **This isn't new** , just importing it from where it was originally posted. And honestly it was one of the first things I wrote in this fandom, so I was a sucker for all the nicknames and it's overly fluffy and dumb but also sort of cute? Ehh, you be the judge. 
> 
> Also, there's a [German Translation](http://www.fanfiktion.de/s/524dae2e000330901acd99c0/1/A-Very-Larry-Wedding).

“How is he?” Louis asked as Niall came back into the room, closing the large, mahogany door behind him.   
  
Niall glanced up from the floor, eyes wide, but a grin the size of Big Ben plastered across his every feature. “He’s good,” he said, breathing out a laugh. “Freaking out just as much as you are, fidgety and pacing the room… just like you are.”   
  
Louis stopped in his tracks at that statement and sent the blond a slight glare. Though, he ended up sighing and resuming his pacing after only a few seconds. “Ugh, I can’t take this!” he shouted a minute later, stilling his motions at the far corner of the room to turn back toward his friend. “Is it time yet?”   
  
The blond, who had since settled into the corner of the single leather couch in the room, stole a quick peek at his watch. A grimace shortly distorted his features before he looked across the room at one of the very anxious grooms. “Still got a quarter of an hour until you can head out,” he told him, a regrettable tone filling his words. “Even then you’ll be out there early.”   
  
Louis’ eyes bulged, and for a moment he looked as though he might even faint from pure over-anticipation. But with another sigh, he just went back to pacing, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his snug, off-white short pants. This was too much. All of it. He couldn’t deal with this… this… all of this waiting! First he had to deal with Harry and his stupid superstitions. (Even though he had already told the curly-haired boy that the whole “seeing each other before the wedding brings bad luck" superstition only counted for a bride and groom, not two grooms. Harry wouldn’t have it.)   
  
And then there was Liam. Liam, the sensible one, the ring-leader, the one who had come and nearly knocked down Niall’s door (Louis had been kicked out of his and Harry’s flat for three days—to make it more special, they had agreed) at seven in the morning, in hysterics that they were going to be late.  
  
Late.   
Right.  
Funny.  
  
The ceremony didn’t even start until two in the afternoon.   
They arrived, dressed and all, by a quarter to eleven.   
  
Zayn and Niall had had to wrestle Louis in to this waiting room to keep him from killing Liam. Liam had then slipped into Harry’s waiting room for safety, and Louis hadn’t seen him since.   
  
Which was all probably for the best, the thought passed through the mind of the pacing young man. He wasn’t so sure he’d be able to handle an impatient Liam on top of everything else. He was antsy. He was freaking out. He was nervous. He was fucking nervous, but what for? All he was going to do was say a few words in front of a crowd of family and friends to the person he loved. What was there to be nervous about? But he was. He was nervous and his stomach was all in knots and he couldn’t stop wringing his fingers together and all he wanted was Harry.   
  
His Harry.   
  
Harry was the only one who could put him at ease whenever he felt like this. But he wouldn’t see Harry until he was already out there, already facing what was making him so nervous.   
  
“You alright there, Lou?”  
  
Louis jerked his head up, shaking out of his thoughts as Niall’s voice met his ears. “What?” he asked on instinct, seeing the question in the blonde’s features before he could register his words.   
  
Niall smiled and stood from the leather sofa, smoothing out his suit as he did. “You know it’s going to be fine,” he said as he made his way to the corner, where Louis was still standing, lost in an ocean of thoughts and nerves and worst-case scenarios.   
  
“And if it’s not?” the brunette wondered, searching his friend’s blue eyes for reassurance.   
  
The Irish man smirked, placing a hand on Louis’ shoulder. “It will be,” he said confidently. “I mean, you’re here, you’re ready, people are already arriving… What could possibly go wrong at this point?”  
  
“He could say no.”   
  
Niall sniggered, shaking his head as the laughter echoed throughout the room. “Louis, c’mon,” he started, “this is Harry we’re talking about.  _Harry_.”   
  
Louis tried on a smile, but it only sat, unconvincing, upon his lips.   
  
“Just relax, man,” Niall suggested, rubbing the other man’s shoulder to try and ease out some of the tension. “There’s nothing to worry about at this point.”   
  
“Yeah, but you said he was freaking out,” Louis countered, though he took a deep breath and let it out, long and steady, to release a pile of nerves. But the thought still remained. “What if he gets cold feet? We haven’t seen each other in three days. What if that’s finally given him some time to think, you know, without me around? What if he’s realized he doesn’t want to do this anymore?”   
  
Niall, still smiling, turned away. “Come on,” he said, nodding toward the door, “let’s head out. We won’t be too early now. We’re probably late on Liam’s watch, anyhow.”  
  
The blond was already at the door, hand on the knob, when he realized that his friend was still hesitating in the far corner of the room, shifting from foot to foot, hands wringing together.   
  
“What’s the matter?” Niall wondered.   
  
“You…” Louis began and stopped, looking down, his voice following with it. “You never answered my question.”   
  
“Oh, that.” Niall laughed. “That’s rubbish. You’re forgetting one thing, Louis.”   
  
The brunette looked up, a line of confusion settled across his brow. “What’d I forget?”  
  
Niall, halfway out of the room, glanced over his shoulder and reminded Louis with a wide grin, “ _He_ asked  _you_.”   
  
It wasn’t much. It was only three words.   
  
But it made Louis’ lips stretch back into a smile so wide, Niall would have sworn it reached from ear to ear.   
  
~*~  
  
“This is the stupidest thing I have ever done.”   
  
“But it’s cute,” Liam responded as he ushered Harry down a hallway, winding into another. “And it’s not stupid.”  
  
“Yes, it is,” Harry mumbled. “It’s girly.”   
  
“Will you shut up, there is nothing girly about walking down an aisle, alright?” Liam turned toward his friend as they came to a stop behind a set of closed doors.   
  
 _The_  doors.   
  
Harry eyed them up with a deep, steadying breath, willing his nerves to calm. He could hear the traditional organ music and the chatter of waiting people drifting through from the other side. There was a chapel full of people in there, of family and friends, of people he really did not want to face at the moment. His stomach was too in knots to handle all of them. He had half a mind to just turn away and let them all be as they were. But he also knew that behind those tall doors was the one person he wanted to see more than anyone and anything else.   
  
With another deep breath, Harry broke his gaze from the doors and set them upon Liam. “Let’s get this over with already,” he said.   
  
Liam cracked a lopsided grin. “That’s more like it,” he replied and jostled the younger boy’s shoulder. “But we’re actually a bit early.”   
  
Harry’s eyes bulged. “Liam. For the sake of the continuation of your existence, I really hope you’re lying.”   
  
The older boy ducked his head, turning away slightly. “Sorry, but—”  
  
“How long?”   
  
“What?”  
  
“How long do we have to wait, Liam?” Harry asked, voice rising in impatience.   
  
Liam shrunk back a bit at the anger in the curly-haired boy’s outburst but took a quick glance at his watch. The paleness faded from his features and was replaced by a smile as he breathed out in thankfulness. “Ten minutes,” he replied, appearing more than little bit relieved. “It’s just ten minutes.”  
  
Harry let out a sigh and peered at the great doors that stood before him once again. The doors that were standing in the way between him and his future.   
  
He looked away, blinking quickly, trying his damndest to not let his nerves get the best of him. “Can’t we head in early?” he wondered, sounding more like a curious, anxious child rather than a man about to join into a union with the love his life.   
  
Liam smiled, a twinkle in his eye, and wrapped his arm around Harry’s shoulder to pull him in for a half hug. “Well, you could,” he started, “but you really can’t. Some people may still be trickling in during the last ten minutes, they’re still catching up with friends and relatives, and everyone else is putting on the last minute touches. And if you just went in early, everyone might not be ready yet, and it would be best to just let everyone get everything out and said before the ceremony starts so they’re not talking and whispering during it. Besides,” he paused, turning to meet Harry’s eyes with a grin, “no harm in letting them sit in anticipation, right?”   
  
“And if I can’t handle the anticipation?”  
  
“You will,” Liam assured him, tightening his grip around him for emphasis. “Just a while longer.”   
  
Liam’s reassurance only lasted for seven and a half minutes, though. Before the eighth minute could roll around, Harry had wrestled his way out of Liam’s hold and wrenched open the doors leading to the sanctuary. The force with which he had pulled back the doors caused them to let out quite a retched creak, drawing most of the attention of the room back toward the main entrance, where they saw a wide-eyed Harry and a surprised Liam rushing to pull him back. Liam was just about to drag the curly-haired boy back into the hallway for two more long minutes of waiting, when the organ music that had cut off abruptly switched to a traditional wedding march.   
  
Harry swallowed a lump, but it fought back and he turned toward his friend for help. For assistance. For something. Anything.   
  
The older boy simply motioned toward the aisle, brow raised as if to say,  _Shall we_?   
  
When Harry looked back, everyone was standing and there was no longer any chance for escape.   
  
No second for turning back.   
The opportunity had passed.   
  
With a nudge to the shoulder, Liam took a step down the aisle and didn’t take another until Harry fell into place beside him. Each step was a struggle, a task, a journey that etched itself across his mind to sit in his memory forever. His nerves had skyrocketed through the roof, reaching a level he couldn’t even recall feeling the first time he had stepped foot on stage. It was like the worst stage fright he had ever felt yet simultaneously the best rush of adrenaline he had ever experienced.   
  
But every nerve, every ounce of panic and fright he had felt leading up to that moment, vanished as he finally took a look up at his destination.   
  
For there, at the end of the aisle, was Louis.   
  
Dressed in white, from his suspenders down to his shoes, he stood with an easy smile draped across his lips. It grew considerably as their light eyes, at long last, met across the distance between them.   
  
Three days it had been. Three very long days since they had seen each other, since they had talked to one another, since they had even so much as been in the same room. Three days and it was more than long enough for Harry to feel a tightening in his chest, a bit of an excited jump in his stomach, and a smile peeling his lips back around his teeth in response.   
  
Oh, it hurt and oh, did he look like an overexcited fool, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.   
  
It took all of his being not to break into a run and sprint to the boy waiting for him at the altar, to embrace him like he would after any other extended time apart. But Harry controlled himself and took a deep, steadying breath as he reached the end of the aisle.  _This is it_.   
  
Eyes still locked, Harry took a hold of the hand Louis had extended toward him. Their fingers interlocked like they had so many times before, but this time was different. And when Louis squeezed his hand it wasn’t for attention but for assurance, for security, for promise.   
  
“Hi,” Louis’ voice reached Harry’s ear as a whisper, still heard despite the organ that drawled onward.  
  
The familiar tone sent a sensation of comfort and calm throughout Harry’s entire body and he squeezed Louis’ hand in return. “Hi.” He grinned, though it was almost a smirk. “Missed you.”   
  
“Missed you too,” Louis reciprocated, his eyes sparkling. “You ready for this?”   
  
“Ready as ever, Lou.”   
  
Louis smiled and tightened his grip around Harry’s hand one last time before taking the few steps forward to stand before the pastor. Niall, Liam, and Zayn were already situated on either side of them, full of smiles, and the rest of the room settled in to their seats as the organ music finally drew to an end.   
  
It didn’t matter, though; the rest of the room could have disappeared and neither of the young men standing hand-in-hand would have noticed. And it stayed that way as the ceremony progressed, the two sharing glances and smiles the whole time. They only noticed the outside world when Liam began to panic, thinking he had lost the rings as he felt every pocket he could think of. (Zayn saved the day, remembering Liam had put them in the suit jacket’s little inside pocket since it would be an “easy find” during the ceremony. Niall was too busy attempting to smother his laughter to help.)   
  
But their attention shortly turned back to each other.   
  
The rings were placed, the vows were made, words of promise were shared, and then, much sooner than either was expecting, came the pastor’s final words:  
  
“I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may seal your vows with a kiss.”   
  
Louis turned from the pastor with a deep breath. His gaze met a set of greenish-blue eyes it had on countless occasions. The eyes were familiar, homey, and filled his insides with a warmth he didn’t know how to identify. But it didn’t matter.   
  
What did matter was the smile that had tricked up the corner of Harry’s lips. The way his curls were brushed out of his face that day, something Lou knew he hated to do. The fact that everyone there was waiting in anticipation, all eyes on them, and yet the only person Harry was looking at was him.   
  
Smirking slightly, Louis brought one hand to cup the side of Harry’s face as he finally leaned forward to capture the other man’s lips with his own. It was a light kiss, one of the softest nature, and their lips seemed to cradle one another as the world disappeared from around them. Seconds slowed and thoughts swirled, and Louis could have sworn the moment would last an eternity and oh, did he want it to. He didn’t want to leave the moment behind, not until he had the chance to file away every touch, every feel, the scent of Harry’s cologne—not too much but not too little, just enough to send Louis’ senses on a thrill ride—and the sound of near silence that filled the entire sanctuary, waiting for them until noise could start again. He would have stayed there longer, simply basking, but Harry thankfully pulled away.   
  
A wide grin was plastered across the younger man’s face, filling every crevice and feature, and he laughed. He  _laughed_ , as the rest of the world returned to normal, as the walls stopped spinning, as reality came back into focus. And Louis was about to freak out on him for laughing at the end of the ceremony when he realized he, too, was laughing.   
  
Not a ‘ha-ha, this is so hilarious’ laughter, but a bout of nervous chuckling, as if to say,  _This is too surreal_.   
  
And it was.   
  
It was surreal, not unlike a dream, and it stayed that way as the two men turned to see the crowd of their family and friends standing with smiles on their faces; as they turned to their bandmates who were looking at them expectantly; as Louis ducked down, against all of Harry’s prior wishes, and scooped him up in his arms before dashing out of the chapel to the car that was waiting for them out front.   
  
Louis let go of Harry long enough to slide into the backseat of the vehicle, but as soon as they were in their hands found their way right back to each other.   
  
As the car rumbled to life and started out onto the road, Harry turned toward Louis with a look just brushing upon a glare. Without stuttering or even so much as smiling, the curly-haired man stated lowly, “I hate you.”   
  
Louis’ smile didn’t so much as falter. In fact, it widened. “Great words to start off the marriage, Harry,” he replied, already leaning forward, inching closer and closer to his now-husband.   
  
Harry tried to keep his glare as he watched Louis, the other man’s eyes continually darting back and forth between Harry’s eyes and lips. But the glare soon washed away, replaced within seconds by a smile that sparked to life across his lips to match the laughter that slipped out between them.   
  
Shaking his head, Harry let out a chuckling, “I love you,” before crashing his lips fully against Louis’.   
  
It was a kiss much different than the one they had shared only minutes before.   
Heated, a bit more fervent, but both men were still smiling into it.   
  
Before the kiss had the opportunity to grow into something a bit more on the ride to the reception, Louis mumbled against Harry’s lips, “Love you too, baby cakes.”   



End file.
